


fog rolls in over the fields

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, author is pretentious as fuck, doomsday is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29780391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Come morning, Techno would be making breakfast downstairs as Dream slipped out the window before Phil could catch him. Techno made two mugs of coffee every single time, and he always knew who would be drinking the second one. He always knew it wouldn't be his lover.///Dream and Techno are secretly in love and I'm very pretentious about it
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 153
Collections: Anonymous





	fog rolls in over the fields

I t hurt, sometimes, whispering empty promises against the dark blanket of nightfall, only to break every one of them as soon as the moon left them for other lands and the sun reared her head. They'd mutter their vows against broken skin between heavy breaths, and ignored the marks their words had left behind the next day. Sometimes, they'd simply mouth their intentions, no breaths passing between the slide of lips against lips. Come morning, Techno would be making breakfast downstairs as Dream slipped out the window before Phil could catch him. Techno made two mugs of coffee every single time, and he always knew who would be drinking the second one. He always knew it wouldn't be his lover.

Phil wouldn't judge them, and Techno and Dream both knew that very well, but those cold early mornings were  _ theirs _ . Theirs alone. And it was fragile – this fickle thing they called love – and they carried it in their pockets like baby birds they'd found abandoned in the woods. They knew you weren't supposed to pick them up, to carry them home, but it had chirped so weakly and their hearts had never been as strong as their heads, and they'd taken in their baby birds and had somehow ended up with twin dragons.

They curled together now, the beasts in their chests, breathing orange tinted fog into the arctic sunrise. Dream hadn't snuck out that morning, and when Phil had asked, he'd simply said that he was an early riser. It was true enough, even if it omitted the fact that Dream's hands had itched to slide open the window that morning and leave under cover of the low fog that painted the tundra in the earliest hours of the day. Some cultures had a name for it, the rolling fog that captured pastures in the evening and souls at dawn. They called it “the white women”, and they were the grief of widows, searching for their lost love. Dream supposed his breath mingling with these ghostly figures only made sense, be it when he traversed the tundra to meet with Techno under the moon, or walked back home with the first chirps of the birds.

The arctic dawn washed over the three men as they stood checking their supplies for the final time, and all of them bade their individual farewells to the cottage on the tundra that they all called home, even if only one of them lived there. It wasn't that Dream was homeless, per se, but his  blackstone chasm was cold and lonely, and Techno blazed like a fire, keeping the chill in his heart at bay. Phil considered it home, too, Dream knew, and it was for the exact same reason as Dream:  Technoblade .

Speaking of Techno, he'd walked off to check on his turtles one last time, and Phil and Dream both knew it was just to say goodbye to Toby. It was a weird choice – naming your first turtle after someone you're trying to kill – but Techno had explained it once in the dead of night, with nobody around to judge him but Dream and the moon, that he'd done it because the turtle had been so small and fragile when it first hatched, covered by a single layer of snow, and the look in his eyes had reminded Techno of Tubbo. It had reminded him of the boy Phil had found by the side of the road and raised as his own – reminded him of the young boy Techno had taught how to hold a sword, something he'd never be legendary at since he was also the young boy that Techno pulled the trigger on. The turtle had looked at him with the same big eyes that Tubbo had sported with a crossbow to his chest, pleading for Techno to instead take him home – to take care of him.

The three set off to the West, heading to the portal that would take them to  L'Manberg . Today wasn't a day to slumber in the quiet haze of the tundra – not the time to drink in the details of Techno's face in the fragile sunrise, nor the time to get lost in the dancing lights on the steady quartz of Dream's mask. Today, they were the End Times.

Because Techno knew a lot of things about Tommy  Innit . For example: he liked his eggs over-easy, his steak medium, and his shirts red. He also knew that Tommy no longer adhered to conventional ideas of the Beyond. Tommy's beliefs rejected black shrouds, the dry heat of  netherrack caverns, a red man with horns, a hazy eternal fog, and the Pearly Gates. To him, Death wore dark green and swooped down on the innocent with wings that could carry the earth. To Tommy, Hell was a campsite, and the Devil hid poison eyes behind pristine quartz. In his eyes, Purgatory was a tundra, and Heaven? Heaven was blown up for its trivial sin, ruined by God for straying from His path. So, to Tommy, the approaching force was nothing more, nor was it anything less, than eternity beyond his lives. Cerberus approached in its three-headed glory, all snapping jaws and thundering growls, guarding his cell from outside force and expecting him to be grateful for it. 

The obsidian grid shone brightly, almost blindingly, in the midday sun, and Techno squinted to look up at it one final time, straining to spot a hint of lime among the bright blue of the sky and the black of the grid. He wouldn't get the chance to look again during the battle, he knew that much, so he sent his love to the sky and hoped it landed where he wanted it.  L'Manburg laid before him, spruce wood docks and homes, so deliciously and unwisely flammable, over a now-empty lake. Phil's coral reef was dead now, gray and limp where it stood among the sponges, and Techno almost wanted to weep for the future of the land he stood on – the land he fought for. But Wilbur had been right, if the stories were anything to go off of, and  L'Manberg hadn't existed in a long time, replaced by nothing more than a zombified husk of what it had once been. 

Tommy arrived first.  Of course he did. It wasn't long, though, before the rest of the server started to trickle in, most surprising among their ranks being  Sapnap and Puffy, and Techno would later hold Dream as he pretended not to feel betrayed by their actions, and Techno would tell him then that family doesn't mean shit. His arms would not give out as he comforted his lover through the night, only failing when he woke up alone again, and realized that he'd only been half right; family doesn't mean shit, neither does love.

The battle was destructive to say the least, screams from dogs, humans, and withers alike ringing in Techno's ears for the rest of the week. It left  L'Manberg a crater and her former inhabitants as helpless as they had been way back on a late summer day, when Techno had joined. The next few weeks would see the crater deepened and looted, stripped of everything remotely valuable as those that lost the fight moved on to better lands. A flag would get built, right at the bottom, and that, too, would be overrun by destruction and death. 

A heavy storm rolled away in the distance, one that had shown the gods’ support for Hell's cause, eliminating the final stragglers as the night came to a close. The world-eater would follow her trail north and never look back at the broken bodies he left behind, not until he attempted to close his eyes at night or tried to look at his lover the same. Because Dream had seemed immortal on his pedestal in the sky, commanding the sky and earth alike as both yielded to his every command. Techno would yield with them if asked, and the crimson floor was as much Dream's as it was his.

Come sunrise, Cerberus returned to his cage and found Dream and Techno already there, or maybe they had never left, confessing to the very sins they were committing against purpled skin. They dressed their wounds with blades of their own as though they'd been blowing up anything less than the world together, as though they were on opposite sides again, looking to break each other. The truth was that they'd already been broken, as evident in the quartz, now soot-stained, that stared up at Techno's pig-skull mask. This day, their love hurt in a different way than the hushed slide of tender skin under the stars ever could. But it was still  _ love _ – it heals.

If there were more peaceful ways to love, ones that didn't include ripping the stars to shreds, then they were strangers to those quiet lovers under the pale fog.

**Author's Note:**

> it's all for swag


End file.
